


Speeding, Disorderly Conduct, and Shitty Luck

by AuroSya



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroSya/pseuds/AuroSya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wow, another shitty night for Lovino Vargas. Getting arrested is new, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speeding, Disorderly Conduct, and Shitty Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrussianSquiddle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrussianSquiddle/gifts).



> AU Prompt: getting a speeding ticket.

Today was not Lovino’s day. 

He woke up an hour late due to a faulty alarm clock. _(Seriously, he really should get around to buying a new one. This one was barely functional and had been that way since he threw it across the room one day during his high school years!)_ And after getting ready for work in record time, he found out that his car wouldn’t start.

Thank god that his brother was home from work today to lend him his own. 

But he must have built up a lot of bad karma, as he was late to work anyway because of a series of horribly inconvenient red lights. By the time he reached the restaurant he worked at, he was over twenty minutes late – and his normally cheerful boss was none-too-happy about that. 

He was given the job of closing up at the end of the day as punishment. 

After ten hours of working in the kitchen, he then had to set up all the chairs and sweep the floors. Definitely not the way he wanted his day to be wrapped up. 

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, Lovi!” Antonio called over his shoulder, the toothy grin on his face a completely polar opposite to the gloomy scowl his employee and friend was wearing. The bell over the door chimed as it was opened and shut, and only once Lovino was alone did he lift a hand to flip his boss the bird. 

“Stupid fucker…” Lovino grumbled angrily to himself as he set his tenth chair up on top of the table. “Not my fault every single traffic light decided to fuck with me today. Asshole.” 

By the time he finished, it was late – around an hour and a half after the restaurant had closed. Normally it wouldn’t have taken that lot, but Lovino had been unlucky enough to be the only one able to stay and do it. Well, more like he had been the only one _forced_ to stay. He locked the restaurant doors and headed out the back, marching over to his brother’s car with a soft string of muttered curses trailing behind. 

The car door was slammed and soon, Lovino was off, tearing out of the parking lot like the devil himself was right on his tail. He blasted guitar music and leaned back in his seat, gripping the steering wheel as he continuously cursed his luck – as if that would help. 

It wasn’t until he heard the sirens and saw flashing lights in his rearview that he realized he had been going at least fifteen miles over the speed limit.

And now, here he was, parked on the side of the road with a cop car right behind him, blue and red lights still spinning. He had to resist the urge to slam his head against the horn. 

This _really_ was not his fucking day.

Lovino sunk low in his seat as the sirens were turned off and listened as the policeman’s door opened. He didn’t look away from his steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it angrily. This was just great. He was going to get a goddamn ticket and get home even later! Hell, if his boss hadn’t been such a hardass, he would have been home hours ago!

The policeman tapped on his window, and reluctantly, Lovino held down the button to lower it as far as it could go. He flicked his gaze up at the man and was met with blue eyes that had frown lines at their edges. 

“Sir, are you aware that you were going well over the speed limit?” 

_No fucking shit, Sherlock._ “Are you sure?” 

“I have the speedometer on my belt, sir. May I see your license and vehicle registration papers?” 

_Fuck._ “Uh…” Lovino felt the back of his neck heat as he fished his license out of his wallet and handed it to the officer through the window. He knew damn well that his little brother didn’t keep the registration papers in the car. “Listen, uh, officer…” He quickly scanned the man’s chest until it landed on a name badge. “Beilschmidt. This car isn’t mine.” 

Officer Beilschmidt paused in examining the license and raised a suspicious brow at him. “Hm?”

“It’s my younger brother’s. Mine broke down today, and since I have to get to my fucking job, he let me use his.” Lovino shrugged in an exaggerated motion. “And he doesn’t leave the registration papers in the car. So I don’t have any to show you.”

“I see.” He didn’t look convinced in the slightest. Lovino felt a nervous sweat break out on his forehead.

“But look, I’m just heading home. It’s been a really long fucking day at work, and I just want to go home and sleep in my shitty bed until I have to get up tomorrow for another day at my shitty ass job. Could you let me off with a warning or something?” 

“You were going seventeen miles over the speed limit. That’s seventy-seven miles in a sixty mile zone.” The frown on officer Beilschmidt’s face deepened. “I’m afraid letting you off on a warning won’t happen.”

 _Well fuck._ “Fine. Then what do I have to do to go?” His patience for this entire goddamn day was wearing a bit thin. “Pinky promise that I won’t ever speed again? Cross my heart, hope to die, and take a piss in someone’s eye?” 

“I need some form of proof that you didn’t steal this vehicle. Once I have it, I can write you a ticket and you can head home.”

 _Un-fucking-believable._ Lovino took in a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. “Fuck. Okay. Would calling my brother work and getting his word work?”

“If he can give the registration code and other confirmation details, then yes.” 

“Thank God.” Lovino pulled out his cell phone and quickly hit the first speed dial number. He held it up to his ears and waited, listening to the dial tone.

Up until it went to voicemail.

The nervous sheen of sweat was back, and he quickly redialed, hoping that his brother had just left his phone out of reach. But when this attempt and the next resulted in no answer, he started to get irritated. “Pick up the goddamn phone!” Lovino growled into the receiver as it went to voicemail for the fourth time. He could tell that officer Beilschmidt was growing less and less patient with each failed call – and it wasn’t helping his nerves. 

“Fuck, he’s not answering!” Lovino all but threw his phone onto the passenger seat. “That son of a bitch! Cock sucking little cu—”

“ _Sir_ ,” Officer Beilschmidt interrupted him sternly. “If you cannot provide proof, I’ll have to report this vehicle as stolen.” 

“What?!” Lovino whipped his head around to stare at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me?! I’m not going to jail because my little twat of a brother won’t answer his shitty phone! Fuck that!” 

“Sir, please cease using so much profanity.” 

“Cease riding my ass over a bit of speeding! Jesus fucking Christ, are things really this slow tonight?! You haven’t gotten any radio calls so you decide to fuck with me all night! This is fucking ridiculous!” 

“Sir—”

“You can take your ‘sir’ – and your stupid badge – and shove it up your tight ass!” 

“… Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside of the vehicle.” 

Lovino stiffened and felt the back of his neck grow hot all over again. “W-what?!” He exclaimed for a second time, and slapped his hand against the steering wheel angrily, causing the car’s horn to bleep. The officer barely flinched. “No! I’m not going to step outside of the fucking vehicle!” 

“I don’t wish to use force, sir,” Beilschmidt replied, “but if you refuse to cooperate—”

“Fuck!” Lovino angrily thumped back against his seat and yanked at the buckle of his seatbelt. “Fine! Lousy fucking…” 

Officer Beilschmidt stepped back and waited for him to get out, making sure that his hands were in sight at all times. Once the door was shut – slammed, being the better word for it – he stated: “Place your hands on the hood of the car.” 

Letting out a huge sigh, Lovino did so, glaring at the shiny red surface that his palms were spread evenly against. He listened as the policeman briefly spoke into his radio, rattling off the license plate and requesting for ownership information. _This is just fucking great. Perfect._

“Do you have any concealed firearms or weapons on your person?” Beilschmidt asked as he walked back over to Lovino. 

“Does it look like I do?” He retorted dryly, and when he got no response, he added in a grumble a few moments later: “No, _officer_ , I don’t.”

“Have you consumed any alcohol?” 

“No.” 

“I’m going to conduct a quick search.” 

“Of what, the car— _HOLY FUCK_!” Lovino had shrieked when he suddenly felt the officer’s hands on his outer thighs. “What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?!” 

“I’m conducting a brief search. Now hold still—”

“Fuck that, you sick bastard!” He spun around in a whirl of failing limbs, continuing to shriek. “You’re trying to cop a feel! Fucker! I know how fucking gay cops are! I’ve seen the shitty porn!” 

In an attempt to avoid being struck by Lovino’s hands, Beilschmidt had lifted up his arms defensively, and tried to shout over him. “Sir, calm down or I will take you in for assaulting an officer!”

“Keep your motherfucking hands to yourself! I’m going to fucking sue you for sexual harassment!” 

“Sir! This is your last warning!” 

 

A quarter after midnight, Feliciano was woken up by the shrill ring of the house phone. He nearly fell off the couch trying to grab for it, tangled up in three blankets, and barely managed to hit the answering button before it went to voicemail. “Ciao?” 

“Oh, _now_ you answer the fucking phone! You goddamn piece of shit!” 

Feliciano blinked his big brown eyes and stole a glance at his phone – which had been on silent since this afternoon. On the screen flashed the messages that he had four missed calls and three voicemail messages. “Oh. Oops.” 

“Oops? _Oops?!_ You bet your sorry ass that you’ll be saying more than ‘oops’ when I get home!” 

“Hm? When you get home?” Feliciano sat up and frowned, rubbing at his eyes. He glanced at the clock and then at the front door, surprised that there wasn’t an angry Lovino staring at him from the outside while locked out. “Where are you, _fratello_?” 

“I’m at the police station. You have to bail me out or I’ll be spending the entire night with Officer Gay Fucklord!” 

In the background, a stern and slightly exasperated voice interjected: “One minute left.” 

“Just get down here!” Lovino snapped in his brother’s ear, and the younger flinched a bit while he stood up. 

“But… how am I going to get down there?” Feliciano asked, more to himself since he knew that his brother wouldn’t have a good answer right now. “Should I call Antonio to drive me down?” 

“What?! No! Anyone but that fucker! Literally anyone else!” 

But Feliciano had stopped listening, and was bringing up Antonio’s number on his mobile with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Okay, _fratello_! Toni and I will be there soon!” 

“No! No, Feliciano, don’t you fucking hang up—”

Once again, his brother didn’t listen, and Lovino – standing in the police station’s phone hallway – was left listening to the dead tone on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, dumbfounded that not a single word had gotten through. 

“That asshole.” 

Behind him, he heard Beilschmidt clear his throat, and he tensed before uneasily hanging the phone back up. It was easy to say that after being pinned down on asphalt and dragged into the back of the police car while screaming out all the curses he knew, his night hadn’t gotten any better. His arresting officer had decided to personally handle all the paperwork and keep watch over him – which was growing more unnerving as time went on. 

“Finished?” Beilschmidt asked, not needing the answer, and then gestured for Lovino to follow him. “Good. Let’s take you back to the holding cell.” 

Lovino shuffled after him. Today was definitely not his day.


End file.
